“No need to thank me.” No longer a rumbling growl, his voice was husky, deep but quiet enough that it seemed like she shouldn’t be able to hear it over the noise of the bar.
“It was just what any man should’ve done.” His eyes flickered over the crowd of men around them, none of whom had done anything, but most of whom would’ve followed in Scraggly’s footsteps if they’d noticed her. “Any decent man,” he corrected himself.
“Well, you’re the one who did it, so my thanks are going to you.” She couldn’t help looking him up and down again. Wow, he was a tall, cool glass of water. “Do you have a name?”
“Grey,” he said. “Grey Landin. You?”
She opened her mouth to say Ali, like she’d introduced herself a thousand times before, but for some reason what slipped out instead was, “Alethia. Alethia Parker.”
“Alethia,” he repeated.
In his husky voice, it didn’t sound weird or stupid or old-fashioned, like she usually thought. It sounded exotic and beautiful.
“Are you okay, Alethia?” he was asking. She made herself pay attention. It wasn’t hard. His voice seemed to curl up next to her ears, somehow drowning out the crowd without being loud at all. “Did he do anything to you?”
She shook her head. It was tempting to mention Ted feeling her up earlier, just to see what Grey Landi
n would do to a man like that.
But just the sight and sound of Grey pushed Ted—and Molly, and Paul, and Scraggly, and even Matt—out of her mind. She didn’t want to bring any of that up with him. “I’m okay. I got his foot with my heel before he did anything.”
Grey’s eyes flickered downward, and he smiled faintly. “Always wondered why women wore those things. Now I understand.”